


Holey Smite

by stormchasersteve



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Sex, Crack, Deliberate Badfic, F/M, Lyrium Withdrawal, Silly, erectile disfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormchasersteve/pseuds/stormchasersteve
Summary: In the same way that the Dragon Age series is the spiritual successor to Baldur's Gate, this is the spiritual successor to Templarary MadnessYou must gather your party before venturing forth.





	Holey Smite

There was a green rip in the ceiling of her bedroom, and a man tumbled out of it, landing with a clank on top of her. "Oof!" she said.  
  
"Maker's breath," he replied, blushing. "My lady, are you hurt?" He began to pull off his armour so he didn't accidentally injure her. His golden hair shone like golden hay in the golden sunlight. He gave her a smouldering look. "I would never forgive myself. What can I do to make it up to you?"  
  
He was beautiful, like a man who had been oddly old and crumpled in his twenties, but had suddenly and implausibly become chiselled and handsome.  
  
She pulled off the bedclothes. "This is how you can make it up to me."  
  
"Maker's breath..." he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "As you wish, my lady. It would be my honour. I am at your command." He blushed again. The scar on his lip stood out. He pulled off his undershirt and breeches, and she saw more scars on his body, and he was really muscly even though he had a desk job.  
  
"What the fuck happened to you?" she pointed at the scars. He blushed, and turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.  
  
"It was terrible... so many slaughtered... I was helpless to stop it, trapped in a cell, tortured, watching my colleagues tear each other apart. I have nightmares every night. I never sleep."  
   
She parted her legs, getting wetter. "Come on then."  
  
In a dramatic sweep of his arm, he pushed everything off the bed. She tumbled to the floor wrapped in blankets. "Oh, Maker's breath! Forgive me my lady!" he cried, rubbing the back of his neck and blushing.  
   
She shrugged and clambered back onto the bed. "It's hot."  
   
He trembled as he climbed on top of her, his skin pale and clammy. "What's the matter?" she asked.  
   
"It's lyrium withdrawal," he said, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. He grimaced, the scar on his lip standing out. "It's a terrible leash from the chantry to control us, making us addicted... I am trying to break free."  
   
"Weird flex but ok," she said. "The headaches, the nausea, the nightmares... it's terrible, my dear lady. Maker's breath, you must think I am so weak." he cringed, a blush rising up the scar on his lip.  
   
"You're fighting addiction. That's legit. Also, somehow, hot." Her creamy juices smeared down her thighs. He looked at her intensely, a flush on his pallid, sweaty cheeks.  
   
"Maker's breath, I'm going to take you now," he said, in a low commanding voice. He prodded at her soggy entrance with his soldier, but it would not stand to attention. "Hang on - I've got this - I can thumb it in," he said, reaching down to fiddle with his bits as he blushed and had a scar on his lip.  
   
"What is it? Don't you want me?" she said, panicking that this chiselled adonis did not automatically desire her.  
   
"My lady, no - maker's breath, I swear this has never happened before," he grinned awkwardly, stretching the scar on his lip. "Perhaps if I may lay my head on your breast as though comforted in Andraste's bosom, it might help?"  
   
"Whatever floats your boat, Noodles," she shrugged, patting her tit, "I ain't kinkshaming."  
   
He planted his face into her boobs and instantly got rock hard, like a marble statue with veins of lyrium. Nuzzling into her silky mounds, he shoved his prick into her watery hole with great passion and fervour. "Maker's breath... Maker's breath," he wheezed into her funbags, reaching up to pat her on the head.  
   
"Yes, oh yes Cullen, you're the most perfect man I have ever met," she warbled as he rocked the whole bed, his body a rigid plank on top of her and his hips pistoning like a trebuchet. He didn't know how she knew his name, but he didn't care because she was obviously sent by the Maker, and he was really protective of her already despite the fact they'd never had a proper conversation. Wiggling his dick in her slot, he rubbed his scar up and down her nipple, blushing.  
   
"Oh, I love you so much, my dear sweet lady," he sobbed onto her flesh pillows.  
   
"Uh, okay?" she replied, not caring that this was weird because he was hot.  
   
"Maker's breath, I want to marry you and have four children and live in a farmhouse with a dog, and go for picnics," he wept in a whining voice, his scar blushing as he mashed his face onto her human marshmallows.  
   
"Picnics, huh? You like eating out?" she smirked, squidging with damp arousal all around his sausage.  
   
"If you mean the cunnilingus then yes, my dear lady, I am well known as being very adept and enthusiastic at doing oral sex. I have read multiple books," he informed her with a blush, rubbing the back of his neck as he did the sex more and more.  
  
"Hot," she said, and came.


End file.
